Owls' Court

Liam Update

Gods bless Ceri for coming over yesterday afternoon to entertain Liam while I worked. I only have about an hour to do today before I can send that tech edit off. She also brought an ergonomic keyboard for me to use. She is wonderful.

But the big news of the day is that Liam is now officially out of his newborn sleepers. Not newborn onesies, oddly enough; those are still really floppy on him. Just the sleepers. It's his legs: they make him too long for 0-3 month sleepers with feet. The doctor weighed him on Monday and he's 11 lbs 2 oz, which puts him officially into the lowest percentile of 3 1/2 month old boys for weight. Before, his points were being plotted on the growth graphs below the percentile completely (although he was scoring around 99 for premature boys at his chronological age when they were plotted on the preterm charts).

So not only is he doing well, he's actually catching up. This isn't supposed to happen till much later.

But then, the doctor did point out that he's been precocious in absolutely everything, so it shouldn't be a surprise. It's remarkably smugness-inducing, of course.

But now I need to get the 3-6 month sleepers from where they're being stored at his grandparents' house, because I only have a couple here.

Minor Catastrophe

There has been an Apple Juice Disaster on my desk this morning, thanks to a flailing baby arm. A full glass of apple juice magically became an empty glass of apple juice.

No matter how many times I wash it, with whatever cleaning product, the floor is sticky. The keyboard is also sticky, despite me having wiped it down and shaken it out. And it's giving me odd letter combos when I hit a single key. some keys don't work at all now. On the ironic side of things, my space bar now seems to be functioning the best it's done in a year.

This makes thing a real headache for finishing up that tech edit today.

More Thank Yous

My mother is thoughtful and generous and did something totally unlooked for, which has also made life less stressful.

Thanks, Mum. Love you.

Today's Thank Yous Go Out To:

My husband for not going out to work today at Ceri's, because I had about forty-five minutes of sleep last night (even more of a gift because I didn't find out till I woke up half an hour ago, miraculously not by a baby crying);

Ceri for understanding;

Everyone who sent us anniversary wishes;

And Hantra for bringing to my attention the fact that some on-line bookstores ahd the wrong author information attached to the Solitary Wicca for Life book. Indigo, Amazon.ca, and Barnes & Noble have all been contacted with corrections. If anyone else finds an error in one of my book listings somewhere else, please let me know.

It's only ten-fifteen, so I'm sure I'll have to thank other people for various things by the end of the day as well.

Small Community = Lots Of Friends

The most incredible thing just happened to us.

Someone from the Pagan community showed up on our doorstep with over two hunded and fifty dollars worth of food and household supplies for our family, collected during a Harvest food drive.

We were completely and totally overwhelmed. Yes, things have been hard lately. Yes, HRH has been laid off yet again. Yes, things went a little haywire this summer with the baby pre-empting our carefully planned budget and schedule, and we've never gotten back on track. Yes, things have been especially challenging in the past two weeks, and life's been wearing us down.

We've never thought of ourselves as in need, though. In fact, when a recent announcement was made on a local Pagan e-list about a new permanent box for food donations in the community centre, I thought to myself, I must root something out to bring in next time I'm downtown. We always think of ourselves as being better off than most people. We have food (even if it hasn't been overly abundant lately), and we have shelter, and while money's been very tight, we usually think of ourselves as okay in that department as well.

This gesture, however, made it clear that those around us care about us, even if we're not as poorly off as many, many other folks. Times are hard, and we're under a lot of stress. These people heard about it, and decided to do something for us. "These things get around," said the lovely and generous lady who spearheaded the effort.

And their gesture has taken a load of stress off our shoulders. We have food for weeks. There's even formula for Liam, should it be necessary. They even bought cat food. Now we don't have to worry about when groceries will get done, and where the money will come from. It's such a relief. We never would have asked for this, but now that it's been done for us, we can see how much it's helped our situation.

(Note to aspiring authors: Writing books does not make you money. Just thought you should know.)

And what can we do in return, except to say thank you?

Actually, there's a lot we can do, and we do it already. We watch out for others. We feed them when they're hungry. We give people lifts. We sit down and listen when people need a friendly ear. We're there for them in crisis situations.

What you do comes back to you. And judging from what's come to us today, we are very caring people in our own right. And when we're on our feet once again, we'll be able to pass the gesture on to someone else in need.

So let this stand as proof that the Montreal Pagan community isn't as apathetic as it seems. There are people within it who when they see a need, quietly act to answer it.

To each and every person who was somehow connected with this, whether you read this journal or not: Whether you provided information, or donated a tin of food or fresh fruit or frozen meat, or added a few children's books and clothes to the pile, we thank you from the bottom of our hearts. May the gods bless you tenfold in return for the thoughtfulness and kindness you have shown us today. You have touched us deeply, and we are profoundly grateful.

Six Years Ago Today

Anxiety Dreams

I had a dream last night where I realised I'd written a whole section on the Harvest sabbat and hadn't researched a single thing to support my claims. So when I got up in the middle of the night to feed Liam, I went into my office and pulled out an encyclopedia of Celtic mythology to look up "Mabon". And yes, exactly as I said in the book: Divine Son. Not a heck of a lot else known.

And blessed equinox to you all, by the way. I don't call it Mabon because, well, see above. Makes little sense. To me, Divine Son always sounds like it should be associated with the Vernal Equinox, not the Autumnal.

This week's been stressful in general because I can't work while HRH is out of the house painting Ceri's walls: Liam is either being fed, being held and comforted, playing, or sleeping in my arms because he won't sleep anywhere else. I know the work is sitting in my office, and I know it's due next Wednesday, and just knowing I can't do anything about it is really revving my stress levels. So HRH came home early today to allow me (a) to get my hair cut for the first time in over six months, and (b) to work on this tech read and response. He's doing the same on Monday because Liam has a doctor's appointment in the early afternoon, and he'll watch Liam the rest of the day while I work again.

My book reviews are being put even lower down on the list or priorities because they're a non-paying gig. Well, I get the books free, but you know what I mean. I begged an extension from the editor. At least the books are read (plenty of time to do that in the middle of the night while breastfeeding) and the reviews exist in note form.

Orchestra last night: loverly. We kick ass. And this with only two rehearsals. Much happiness.

All right, break's over. Back to reading about religious ethics.

Yesterday: A Minor Rant And Some Unconnected Observations

The idiot tenants upstairs have a fishtank. Right over my bookcases in the living room.

I don't have to really finish this thought, do I?

Fortunately, I caught it before it became a disaster. I somehow emptied half the bookcases, pulled them into the middle of the room, called HRH to come home from Ceri's, called the landlord to come unlock the upstairs flat and deal with the tank, and heroically ignored the screaming baby who I'd put in his crib. It threw Liam off for the rest of day, and no wonder: not only did I notice the looming doom ten minutes into his substantial mid-day feeding and terminate his cosy lunch with rapidity, but he's never been left to screech like that for over half an hour. Heck, he's never been left to cry for over five minutes, and then only if we have our hands full of something that can't be put aside: he's only three months old, for heaven's sake.

What really irritates me is that these tenants were told to get rid of the tank after the last time this happened -- because oh yes, it has happened before. And last time the people living here weren't so lucky: part of the ceiling fell in, and had to be patched. We'll need to patch this too, but it's superficial; there shouldn't need to be reconstruction like last time. And you know what? When HRH caught the family coming home from wherever they'd been to tell them what had happened, they just kind of shrugged. They didn't care. I hate that people generally have no thought for those around them; they can't think outside their own immediate sphere. If their tank leaks, they wipe it up on their floor, but the notion that water is a liquid and leaks down cracks and through floorboards didn't occur to them. And if it's happened before and they paid for damages then, you'd think they'd conceive of a way to protect the structure by, oh, I don't know, putting a liner under the tank, or a tray, or replacing the stupid and inefficient filter system they currently have. I hate that people don't care for the things they own, or the space they live in, rented or not. And I hate that they don't have the courtesy to think of those around them. We do; why can't they?

In the non-disaster department, the MS of a book I'm to tech edit arrived yesterday, with a due date of next Wednesday. I can do it, assuming I get one (relatively) uninterrupted day at the computer and little stretches during other days as well. And my current contact at the publisher has taken my issue with the not-officially-renewed contract to other people and they're taking it seriously. I'm glad; I've been working without this particular contract for seven months now. I like the security of a contract, and the money's nice too. They tried to send the the newest cover for the green witch book too, but it kept arriving as gobbledygook so I haven't yet seen it.

I also made cookies before dinner. I needed to do something to get my mind off the oddness and stress of the whole ceiling leak bookcase thing. And dinner itself was homemade macaroni and cheese, made by Ceri, who sent part of her own dinner home with HRH when he left in a hurry to help me deal with the potential disaster. She's such a thoughtful person.

Managed to get one of the books I need to review for Friday finished, and the review exists in note form. Now to finish the second book, the one that I've been trying to read for four months and haven't been in the proper frame of mind to accomplish. I'm still not there, but it absolutely has to be done this time.

Music, Books, Coven

You know, I'm really, really glad I dropped a whole bunch of stuff last spring when I was overhwelmed by writing books, because if I hadn't I'd just have to drop them all now instead. The three things I kept (coven, orchestra, band) I'm truly glad to have, because they all make me feel good. They're work, yes, but not "have-to" work; it's work I want to be doing. And they give me the opportunity to either be out of my home for a couple of hours, or here with friends for a certain number of hours set aside to reconnecting with the things I find spiritually important.

Liam and I are working through some feeding issues that are overshadowing everything else right now (like me remembering to eat, and decent restful sleep for everyone in general), and the rest of life has dropped to a distant second place. It's frustrating, but also kind of nice: if I know I can't take the time to sit down at the computer to work or whatever, then there's less to stress me out, sort of. I'm still waiting to hear back about the new contract that picks up from the one that expired in January, and my tech read of the other imprint book due out next spring should be along in the next couple of weeks. Hopefully this feeding issue will be cleared up by then, because that tiny bit of my life that was Liam-free is important to my sanity. And one cannot ignore the fact that it makes money, as well.

Coven today was absolutely lovely. We chatted about the 'homework' I'd assigned last meeting, talked about meditations and mysteries, and did a wonderfully well-focused Harvest ritual. Thumbs up on that one; in fact, I asked the priestess who did it to type it up and give me a copy for the coven BOS. This is one of those rituals I want to do every year.

Orchestra last Wednesday was equally lovely in a very different way. People asked about Liam and about how we were doing, but not to the extent that I wanted to throw my hands up into the air and snap at theumpteenth person who asked the same questions. We got our music for the next concert, and to my delight we're playing Mozart's overture to Idomeno, Beethoven's Violin Concerto in D, and Haydn's Symphony no. 101 (aka "The Clock", and, of course, the one symphony out of Haydn's last thirty or so that I don't own on CD). We sight-read through 90% of the programme that night, too, and allt he work I've been doing with the band helped me slip right back into orchestra with ease, despite my three-month absence. Rumour has it that our next concert will be on November 20th, at the lovely big church down by the water in Pointe-Claire Village, the same church we play at every July 1. My groupies (yes, I was suprised to realise that I have orchestra groupies: people who come to every concert, people who exclaim with delight when I share the programme) will be/are happy.

Since Liam and I have been spending so much time feeding, I've been reading books that have been on my shelves forever, like Little Dorrit and The Journal of Beatrix Potter.I also just finished Firethorn by Sarah Micklem. Very good; very stylised, which is a hit or miss with me, and in this case a hit. I tried to read The Last Guardian of Everness after reading lots of positive reviews, but it's just all over the place and doesn't allow me to get close to the characters, so I've given up. Giving up on a book I bought new always irritates me; I feel like it was a waste of money, and when a pocketbook costs over ten dollars before tax now, it's not small change. I buy so few books these days due to money constraints that I want the books I do buy to be worth it. I'm still reading The Dream of Scipio, which I began just before we brought Liam home, and I have to finish the two books I'm reviewing for the next issue of WynterGreene before I can, well, write the reviews. I just hate reading books I have to really think about while nursing Liam, because I can't take notes, and I can't really remember the train of thought in an academic book from one feeding to the next.

Next: Work on remembering to eat. This would probably be easier if there was food in the house.

Speaking of HRH

Repeat as necessary:

I love my husband.

I love my husband.

Seriously, though, I'm glad I find it more amusing than anything else. Two months? It would have been worse if he hadn't been working during that time.

Author's Copies Mishap At An End

I have my author's copies of Solitary Wicca For Life. My old concierge was as indignant as I was livid about the signing-for-something-not-yours, and went upstairs to demand the box from the new tenants of our old apartment. They claim it's the only box they've signed for. HRH picked it up this afternoon from her. The box was pretty wrecked, but the books are in OK shape.

It's not as pretty as the spellcraft book, although it's still attractive. And once again I feel little to no emotion about holding it in my hands. Well, come to think of it, I was excited in early June when Roo called me to tell me the store had received the spellcraft book, and I made a special trip into town that day to see them on display. By the time the author's copies of it rolled in, though, any excitement I might have felt had been swamped by baby and other books and tired. This one, though? Meh. It's here.

HRH asked for a copy. I gave it to him. He said that maybe sometime I'd sign it for him, and his copy of the spellcraft book, too. And he asked if I was pleased the book was out, and I kind of shrugged, and he said, "Well then, I'll be proud for you. How's that?"

When I opened it up, I read the dedication, and you know what? It's out of date. Silly impatient baby.

Frustration and Bureaucratic Stupidity All Round

I got a bill from FedEx today.

For what, you may ask? So did I.

For import tax and brokerage fees on my (free) author's copies of the Wicca book. Boo! said I, that I must pay this on free sample-y stuff. But Yay! said I, for the books will be here soon.

Except that when I read the papers closely, they had my old address on them. And they said it had "recently been delivered".

So I called FedEx.

Yes, I was told, the box had been delivered last Friday. And signed for.

Excuse me?

Grr. And the only reason I know about it is because the post office forwarded me the bill.

So this is why I was told the publisher's warehouse sent out two boxes of the spellcraft book, and yet I never received them. They still have my old address in the computer, despite the multiple times I've told them to change it since the beginning of May.

What really frosts my socks is that the people at my old apartment are signing for things not addressed to them. And when I talked to the FedEx customer service agent, she told me that I'd be surprised how often people sign for something without reading the label. And then what? Keep it because they don't know what to do with it? Yes, she told me, and sometimes it's really sensitive stuff.

I'm stunned. And more than a little angry, kind of at everyone. I have a bill for a box of books that someone else has, apparently. Assuming they didn't chuck them or something. And they may have two other boxes of spellcraft books that were shipped to me as well. You'd think they'd learn to read the damned address label after the first one, but no. And why wasn't my address changed four months ago when I gave official notice to the publisher? Grr, grr, grr. And it's not FedEx's fault, because they deliver to an address, where anyone can sign for it.

So I left a message for my old concierge, telling them what's been going on, giving them my new phone number to get in touch with me, and telling them to talk to the new tenants to get the box(es) back (because I know they have it -- it was signed for). And I've emailed the publisher telling them what happened, too, and telling them to change the address in the main computer, already, and they'll stop wasting books and shipping fees.

The good part of this (yes, I had to look for it) is that this means the Wicca book will be out on shelves any moment now. It may even already be available -- not that I'd know, because the local metaphysical shop's order with the distributor got screwed up (I am plagued by error with this book).

And on the brighter side of things, ladyofthe_lake and Kyle came over to play today!

Double Digits!

Liam went to the CLSC to be weighed this morning, and...

10 lbs 2 oz!

Hooray!

Three Months Old: Addendum

I forgot to say that Liam has begun to give kisses, of a sort. When I put him over my shoulder to burp him, he gets excited, wriggles a bit, then turns his head to me, opens his mouth as wide as it will go, and lets his face fall onto my cheek.

Smack. One floppy baby kiss.

Then he lifts his head and smiles in a goofy way.

And as of last night, he now says "A-ah!", in a sort of descending-scale way, the first syllable higher than the second.

Edit: Also as of last night... Behold Liam in his high chair!

Like the crib, he lasted for about ten minutes before deciding that was quite enough for the first go, thank you very much. It must be terribly frustrating to be a three month old baby socially, but the equivalent of a one month old in size. He may be socially ready for the high chair, but you can see how very tiny he is in it. We tried to put the tray on, but it was about level with his chin and blocked his line of sight, which sort of defeated the purpose of having him in his own chair to see us at the table.

Many thank yous to his Auntie Colleen who had a bunch of baby stuff in her basement, which allowed us to do the high chair thing five months ahead of our original scheduled borrowing of the one being used by Liam's godsister!

In Action!

Look! I play the cello! Here's proof!

Scott caught a few pictures of the band at rehearsal when he and Ceri's parents stopped by. I know we're playing Julia by the Horrorpops in this particular picture, because (a) I'm concentrating really hard, and (b) it's the only one of this set that I play pizzicato. (Thanks for the pictures, Scott, and happy birthday!)

And... the amp, in its first photo appearance!

Come to think of it, this was also the first time anyone other than the band heard the amp in use. An auspicious debut, I think.

GRW Update

Done!

The line edits are finished, and the MS has been sent back to the publisher. Now it goes to the copy editor, and then it comes back to me, likely within the next couple of weeks, to respond to that round of edits.

I know I say this every time, but I'm astonished at how coherent the manuscript is. When I submit an MS, I can't tell up from down or good from bad. True, the line editor found something I'd repeated in similar words in no less than five chapters, but other than that, there was remarkably less repetition than I'd expected, and more well-written and interesting stuff than I remembered.

And I love my sidebars. Love, love, love them.

I pasted in that second appendix that took three weeks to do. It's good, as well. I did a quick word count, and everything totals just over 71K words. No idea if they'll let that stand, or if we'll have to cut around 6K out. We'll see. Overall the MS is pretty tight as it is, but I can cut out some of the recipes and such in the kitchen chapter if need be.

Three Months Old

Liam is three months old today.

He weighs almost ten pounds. He no longer fits his preemie clothes; he's graduated to newborn clothing, and even some of the smaller-made 3-month outfits. He can hold his head up all the time now. He's still rolling over, and he can push himself up on his elbows when lying on his tummy. He can also sit up on the chesterfield or in a soft chair when propped up. When you stick your tongue out at him, he sticks his out, too.

He can say "Ah!" and "Oh!" and "Uuuuuuh" as well. Every once in a while a consonant slips in, to make "Nah!" "or "Gah!", or a sibilant. He smiles a lot. He looks for Mum or Da if he hears them and they're out of his line of sight. He can reach for toys after staring at them for a while, although he usually ends up knocking them over. He actually focused on a cat as it walked past him the other day: as Nixie paused to lower her head to him, his eyes widened in delight and he reached out to her.

He sleeps in two four-hour stretches through the night, often with just a wakening for a diaper change and a ten-minute snack before going back to sleep. When he takes his bottle, he drinks 125 ml of milk (that's around 4.5 oz for you non-metric folk). He managed to spontaneously hold his bottle over Labour Day weekend, thanks to a washcloth placed to soak up spills and his customary splayed fingers. He discovered that adults eat, and he watches us do it with fascination. He wants to sit with us at the table, and so we'll be getting a high chair sooner than expected as sitting with him on a lap slows down the eating process because you've only got one hand free, and a wriggly baby in the other arm. If he wants to be at the table, he can have his very own chair. Next, I suppose, is giving him a baby spoon to play with while he watches us use our forks.

He's beginning to have quiet time in his crib mid-afternoon (or this is what we're encouraging, anyway). So far, he's slept alone in it for a whole ten minutes. We've moved the mobile back to the crib, and now if we're alone we can take fifteen minutes or so to make a meal without a baby, so long as we keep going back into his room to wind the mobile up again.

HRH has just begun reading him Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone aloud. Liam is enthralled, and it relaxes him when he's fussy.

We've had him home for two months, and so much has already changed.

Serious Coolness

Okay, I'm not a squealy fangirl, but do this picture and this picture too make anyone else obsessively count the days till November 18?

Coincidentally, there was a Harry Potter film marathon that happened here yesterday. (I said that I did not endorse Liam seeing the films before having the booksread to him. HRH figured it was safe, because Liam would quickly forget all the visuals anyway -- as in, overnight -- and thus be able to enjoy the books and come up with his own visualisations of characters and settings.) So now I'm all ready for seeing Goblet of Fire.

End Of The Week

One chapter left to edit, plus the existing appendix, then the insertion of the second appendix.

Long day of baby, and editing, and baby, and serious magic that made my ears pop in formal ritual, and baby, and editing. And now it's bed-time.

I'd like to say hello to the new readers who are dropping by the Court for the first time. There seem to be a lot of them recently, some of who have sent me messages, others who are lurking (and that's just fine). Hail and welcome, all! Enjoy your stay.

Determination

By dint of hard work and some major focusing, I've edited another hundred pages so far. There's only eighty pages to go. I don't know how heavy the edits are in those eighty pages, so I can't make wild predictions like "I'll be finished this tomorrow", which is probably a good thing. I have Friday, various bits of the weekend if necessary, and Monday to finish up and do any final checking and polishing. I don't think working on the weekend will be required, although I'll have a better idea once I've finished working tomorrow.

This is good.

Random

I just cut five pages out of the manuscript.

We have hot water again. This is a good thing, because there are two adults and a baby in this house who all need a good wash. There is a long bath in my future tonight.

And in other completely unconnected news, my space bar is giving me more grief than usual today.

All For Phnee

Since I'm not allowed to post cute mushness-inducing baby pictures that threaten her brain's physical integrity, I present, for Phnee's benefit, Cats In Sinks.

Because I just know her day is going slowly at work. They always do. It doesn't matter what day she sees this post on; it will do what it's supposed to do for her.

Yes, I'm back at the computer. While HRH was out buying fuses, he picked up that gallon of paint for my office. Hurrah! And we'll know in an hour or so if the fuses have solved the water heater problem.

Writing Stuff

Finally sitting down to work after HRH running about today. I would have been here earlier except our hot water heater has conked out, and he had to move all our garage-type stuff away from it in preparation for a visit from the Hydro team.

Matociquala has written an excellent post on how writers keep raising their own standards for success. She calls it "raising the gate". It so perfectly explains why I don't feel like the actual publication of books is a big thing. Tal, I also thought of you and your recent questions to me regarding the stages of publishing when I read it.

Breaking news (no pun intended): Hydro just called and told HRH to try replacing the fuses in a secondary fuse box near the heater and see if that fixes the problem. Which means he has to go out and buy fuses. I love my baby, and we had a nice morning together, but the deal today was that I'd take care of him this morning so that HRH could go help Ceri, and HRH would have him all afternoon so that I could work on the edits. The edits are work, and they have a firm deadline. I am NEVER going to get anything done today.

I lie. I edited a whole six pages before they called. Okay, so I'm not going to get anything more than six pages done today.

It's Been Too Long, So...

Before I leave for the day, I will gift you with a picture of Liam on HRH's lap on the front porch at my parents' place in Oakville, doing what appears to be the Hokey Pokey. Everyone sing! You put your left foot in...

Day's Work

Muah-hah! Three chapters plus an introduction edited! That's ninety pages, or one-third of the book!

Seeing as how my personal schedule had me editing fifty-five pages a day in order to make Monday's deadline, I am terribly pleased. And that's with an hour and a half to feed Liam. What happened to the forty-minute feedings? What's with this 'forty-minute meal, let's walk around a bit, second helping almost as long as first' thing? Yeah, yeah. I know: growth spurt.

Once I have liquid cash again, I am so buying a gallon of paint for this office. Chalk white walls drive me crazy. There can be little creativity in a chalk-white room. At the moment, the Casual Cream paint chip of from Debbie Travis' Nostalgic collection is the one that's winning the paint chip race, and it's been winning for a few weeks now. It's a nice dark parchment colour. And all the unfinished pine shelves are going to be stained a lovely rich pecan. Now that I know which colour I want on the walls, the chalk white is irritating me more and more each day.

It's to bed early tonight. Yes.

Loving My Sidebars With Much Love

I love my sidebars!

The line editor has taken certain sentences or short paragraphs and really made them pop by turning them into sidebars. And the bits she's chosen are really excellent bites of green witch philosophy. I don't think I could have written them like this; it needed a fresh objective eye to pull them out. And I must have done something right in explaining it all if the bits she's pulling are so perfect.

Much is the sidebar love. It's a sidebar love-in in my office today, I tell you.

Back Into The Swing

Orchestra begins again on the 14th!

And we can now officially tremble -- the next Random Colour gig is next month. It wasn't so bad last week when it was "October-which-is-two-months-down-the-line", but now it's "October-which-is-next-month". Eep.

Edits ho!

Valuable Teaching Tools

Everything I Know I've Learned From English Folk Ballads.

My favourites are, "If you’re a brunette, give up" and "Avoid navigable waterways. Don’t let yourself be talked into going down by the wild rippling water, the wan water, the salt sea shore, the strand, the lowlands low, the Burning Thames, and any area where the grass grows green on the banks of some pool. Cliffs overlooking navigable waterways aren’t safe either."

Work Again!

Edits!

Hurrah!

And to my amazement, light edits! The green witch MS wasn't as horrendous as I thought it was, apparently. I may sneak in a couple of extra edits myself though if I come across stuff that makes me cringe. (Who am I kidding -- I made notes on stuff to fix while I collated the second appendix, and I'll do it if the line editor didn't catch it first.)

Oooh! They made some of my little paragraphs into sidebars! I've never had sidebars before! Although come to think of it, this is the first non-For Life book I've written; we specified that the For Life series wouldn't have sidebars. That might explain it. But still! Sidebars!

The edits are due back on Monday September 12. And really, there's not a heck of a lot to check. No problem.

I'd start now, but I'm hungry and sleepy because I've been nursing Liam pretty much non-stop since I got up at nine. Poor kid; we've made a note that he needs extra TLC after spending an entire day in the car seat, which equates to a day not being held by someone flesh and blood. He wouldn't be held by HRH today; he'd fuss and cry. He wanted me, and he wanted to snack pretty much all the time while I held him. I gave up and settled down with baby and book. He finally crashed out on HRH's chest an hour ago when I handed him over because my arms had gone to sleep and I needed to stretch. I scrubbed the bathroom, washed bottles and stuff, put baby things away from the trip, and made a sandwich. Now that I've caught up with the world on-line, I'm going to make another one because I'm still ravenous. I wish we had milk in the fridge.

Home Again, Home Again, Jiggedy Jig

We three had a lovely weekend out in Oakville with my parents. Liam travels wonderfully well, so long as we remember that he has to eat every two hours on a car journey (as opposed to his usual two-and-a-half to three hours), which turns a six-hour trip into a nine-hour trip, because of course it takes half an hour (by bottle) to fifty minutes (by breast) to feed him. I have discovered that my pump works in the car. Huzzah.

Glorious weather. Delicious food. Much was the sleeping in. Much also was the cuddling of the son by his grandparents. Saturday morning HRH and I took advantage of this and went out to do a bit of shopping on our own, our very first instance of leaving-child-with-others. HRH had been digging his heels in on this, while I've been fine with the idea of leaving him with capable people for a while. So, big step. Baby survived. So did HRH. All are relieved.

Now we are home to cats who seem tiny (after the three Maine Coons who live with my parents), no real food in the pantry (because why shop when you're going out of town for four days?), and that odd restlessness that always hits after a day in the car (we're tired, but we've been sitting down doing sort of nothing all day so we don't want to sit down some more).

Still no edits.

Yes, Worthless Again In The Eyes Of The Corps

Well, that was a waste of precious gas.

Nothing like being told that the bank can't help you with anything your appointment was about (responsible stuff like credit lines, credit card maintenance, RESPs, RRSPs) because your husband is between jobs, there's no money at the moment, and you have no proof that your job is stable. It's back to the same old "if you had money we would help you" scenario. I'm sick of it.

And having it said to you in that polite civil tone that doesn't disguise the unspoken "you're wasting my time" makes me even angrier.